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I rode out to the lakeside

In turmoil of mind and soul

There, in time

I met again, with a long lost friend

Thanks to the Ancress of Lynn

Who pointed me straight

To the fountain

The Living Water

Which did not burst forth, strong, overfilling

As before

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My head bowed, eyes closed

He came

Like dew forming

Gently, gently

Gently rising

Cool refreshing, slowly soaking

Shadow moistening

The dry walls of my well

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And now, this place, this quiet

Gentle, light and floating bliss

Mystical oasis,

Surrounded yet

Untouched by cursed desert

Has not remained behind, by the lakeside

Fading

Soon after I rode away

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It has come with me

Within me

I feel, I see

A presence

Dissolving my compulsions

Anxieties, and hatreds

As though they were all

Ever so distant

Alien things

Those former companions now

Seem foreign to me

And true it is

So long as I continue

To hold my peace

And look in upon

The face of these Present Waters

They rise a little

A little

A little more

To meet my thankful gaze.

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“Thou shalt not please Me

so well as thou dost

when thou art in silence,

and suffrest Me to speak

in thy soul.”

 

“If thou wilt be

high with Me in heaven,

keep Me alway in thy mind

as much as thou mayst…”

 

“In nothing that thou dost

or sayest…

thou mayst

no better please God

than believe

that He loveth thee.”

 

— from A Short Treatyse Of Contemplation

Taught By

Our Lord Jesu Christ,

Or

Taken Out Of The Book

Of Margery Kempe,

Ancress Of Lynn

General

These Present Waters

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Visit Psalmistice on Flickr for more photos.
 

General

Reflections

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Depart from evil, and do good;
Seek peace, and pursue it.

— Psalm 34:14

 
Over the past 24 hours, the world commemorated the outbreak of “The War To End All Wars”.

I observed a holyday. In the quiet company of nature’s family.

To enjoy all the sacred sounds, you may wish to crank up the volume —

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When thou comest by thyself,
think not before what thou shalt do after,
but forsake as well good thoughts as evil thoughts,
and pray not with thy mouth
but list[en] thee right well.

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And then if thou aught shalt say,
look not how much nor how little that it be,
nor weigh not what it is nor what it bemeaneth …
and look that nothing live in thy working mind
but a naked intent stretching into God,
not clothed in any special thought of God in Himself … .

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This naked intent freely fastened and grounded in very belief
shall be nought else to thy thought and to thy feeling
but a naked thought and a blind feeling of thine own being:
as if thou saidest thus unto God, within in thy meaning,
“That what I am, Lord, I offer unto Thee,
without any looking to any quality of Thy Being,
but only that Thou art as Thou art, without any more.”

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That meek darkness be thy mirror, and thy whole remembrance.
Think no further of thyself than I bid thee do of thy God,
so that thou be one with Him in spirit,
as thus without departing and scattering,
for He is thy being, and in Him thou art that thou art;
not only by cause and by being, but also,
He is in thee both thy cause and thy being.

— Anonymous, Epistle of Privy Counsel.

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For silence is not God, nor speaking is not God;
fasting is not God, nor eating is not God;
loneliness is not God, nor company is not God;
nor yet any of all the other two such contraries.
He is hid between them, and may not be found
by any work of thy soul,
but all only by love of thine heart.

He may not be known by reason,
He may not be gotten by thought,
nor concluded by understanding;
but He may be loved and chosen
with the true lovely will of thine heart … .

— Anonymous, Epistle of Discretion.

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On the art of contemplative prayer; that is, of love meeting love.

Motorcycles, Mysticism

Naked stretching

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If in God’s starry universe there throbbed
No heart but His and mine, I would not plod
With eyes earthbound, hungry of soul, and robbed
Of a sweet sense of nearness to my God.

For mystic notes that issue from His Soul
Would wing their shining way in singing showers
Into my waiting heart, when spared the toll
Of intercourse with men that wastes my powers.

Alone with God! My soul, invite the art,
As One who climbed the heights alone to pray
And in the gentle stillness, heart to heart,
Let Heaven’s dew transform this house of clay.

Oh, God is everywhere. Yes, God is here!
Only my faith is dim … the world too near.

— Edith Alice Bang